


As the River Flows so Surely to the Sea

by Nutella_enthusiast



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: 5 Times, 5+1 Things, Angst, Background Relationships, Friends to Lovers, Lots of drinking, M/M, Minor Sansa Stark/Margaery Tyrell, Pining, Sexual Tension, Shower Sex, Slow Burn, theon is kind of an idiot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-09
Updated: 2014-12-09
Packaged: 2018-02-28 20:21:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,487
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2745719
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nutella_enthusiast/pseuds/Nutella_enthusiast
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Five times Theon and Robb showered together, and the one time it meant something</p><p>Alternatively titled: Shower me with Love</p>
            </blockquote>





	As the River Flows so Surely to the Sea

**Author's Note:**

  * For [janie_tangerine](https://archiveofourown.org/users/janie_tangerine/gifts).



> Title from Can't Help Falling in Love by Ingrid Michaelson

i.  
The first time it happens, Robb is eleven and Theon is fourteen, and it's entirely Theon’s fault. A lot of things are Theon's fault really, Robb would think, hours after it happens, when he's laying in bed, wrapped in blankets and still shivering slightly. That time that they broke old Mrs. Tyrell’s birdbath and she made them do her gardening for the next three months was his fault, and the time they got kicked off the little league baseball team because Theon kept shouting vulgar things at the opposing teams was his fault, and the time they had to stay after school and write “I will not build anatomically correct snowmen during recess time” a hundred times was his fault too. Really, considering the kind of trouble Theon has gotten him into in the past, he shouldn’t be surprised that this occasion is Theon’s fault, too.

It starts like this.

Robb is woken up by the sound of a snowball hitting his and Jon’s bedroom window. It takes him a moment to realize that a snowball hitting his window is not exactly a common occurrence, and another to realize that if he doesn’t get out of bed and figure out who exactly had thrown it and stop them, they will probably throw another, and if Jon is woken up at the ungodly hour of 9 AM on a Sunday, good reason or not, he's not going to be happy.

Robb leaps out of bed, hissing as his bare feet hit the freezing cold and bare wooden floor below him, and tiptoes over to the window, trying to keep his toes on the ground for as little time as possible. He jerks the window open with a screech, forgetting about the rusty hinges in his haste to silence the person outside, and Jon rolls over and buries his head under his pillows with a loud groan.

"Robb!" the boy outside shouts, and Robb's face split into a wide grin at the sight of his friend, not even noticing as Jon continues burrowing his way under at least three layers of bedding. "Hurry up! I wanna show you something!"

Robb gives the boy a thumbs up and shuts the window, tugging a pair of jeans up over the boxers he'd been sleeping in, and grabbing a coat and scarf to throw on on his way out.

He takes the stairs two at a time, throwing himself around the corner at the bottom just as he tosses the end of his scarf over his shoulder. "Morning mom," he says with a grin as he passes the kitchen table where she is sitting with her newspaper and breakfast, leaning down to steal a bite of her toast as he hurries by. "I'm going out with Theon. I'll see you later!"

He's already tugging on his second boot by the time Catelyn can reply. "Do you have a hat?" she calls out exasperatedly, and he turns around, practically bouncing with excitement.

"I have a hood."

"Did you invite Jon?"

"He's asleep."

"Are you going to be warm enough?"

He let's out an exaggerated sigh. "Yes mom. Now can I go?"

"Have a good time, and keep me updated."

"Yeah, sure," said Robb, already halfway out the door.

"I love you!"

"Uh huh, you too!" shouts Robb over his shoulder, before slamming the door closed behind him.

Catelyn rolls her eyes and returns to her crossword, a fond smile tugging at the corners of her lips.

********

"What's going on?" asks Robb, as soon as he gets within shouting distance of Theon.

"It snowed!" Theon points down the street towards the nearby park. “It snowed a lot, and the lake is frozen!"

"The lake is always frozen. They call it Winterfell for a reason."

"Yeah, but it's really frozen," says Theon, as if that should mean something, grabbing Robb's wrist with one mittened hand and dragging him down the street and towards the park.

It isn't until they finally get there that Robb really understands what Theon had been saying. The lake is perpetually covered in a thin layer of frost from October to March, but only once every few years does it get this frozen. The ice spreads all the way up to the bank, thick and entirely opaque, scratched in a few places, but not cracked anywhere.

"Race you to the other side," says Theon, a wide grin overtaking his face.

Robb, of course, is far too enamored of Theon to even consider saying no. It isn't until they're almost halfway across that it even occurs to him that there might be something wrong.

"Uhh, Theon?" he says, starting to slow down. "I don't think-"

Whatever exactly it is that he doesn't think, Theon never finds out, because in that moment, the ice beneath the younger boy breaks apart with an almighty crack, plunging him deep into the dark waters below.

"Robb!" shouts Theon, slipping and sliding in his haste to reach his friend. He doesn't waste a moment, pulling off his gloves and thick winter coat and leaping in after him, forcing his eyes open against the icy deluge of water. Luckily, the lake water is fairly clear, and Theon quickly locks eyes on Robb's bright red parka, grabbing him by the sleeve and pulling him upwards. By the time they break the surface, they're spluttering, gasping for air, cheeks pink but lips beginning to turn blue at the edges.

Theon grabs the edge of the ice and pulls himself upwards, never letting go of his viselike grip on Robb's sleeve. Once he finally manages to haul the redhead up onto the ice beside him, both boys are shuddering with cold, teeth chattering. Without wasting a moment, Theon forces Robb into a sitting position, stripping him of his scarf, jacket, and tshirt, wrapping him instead in the thick winter coat that he had shed just minutes before. 

“Come on,” he says, pulling the gloves back onto his own hands and tugging Robb to his feet, dripping clothes clutched in one hand and Robb's skinny fingers in his other. “We’ve got to get you back home.”

Theon drags the younger boy behind him for the few blocks back to his house, the cold air biting at their cheeks and making both of them shudder with chills. By the time they make it back to the Stark’s house, Robb’s lips are more blue than they are pink, and his eyes are glazing over and starting to shut.

“Robb!” snaps Theon, shaking him. “Robb, stop it!”

“So cold,” mutters Robb, slumping against him and shivering violently.

“Jesus Christ Robb,” mutters Theon, pushing him back to his feet and holding him up with one arm, trying the doorknob with the other. Finding it locked, he pounds against it with his fist, still trying to keep Robb standing up straight. “Mrs. Stark!” he shouts. “Catelyn!”

The door is flung open by a very harried looking Catelyn, her hair half styled and her blouse wrinkled. “What’s going-” she starts, but she freezes when she sees the two boys, both of whom are shaking with cold, Robb still leaning heavily on Theon.

“Th-the ice on the lake broke,” stutters Theon.

Catelyn goes from worried to all business so quickly that it makes Theon's head spin. “Come inside, quickly. Get out of those wet clothes and come upstairs, I’ll get the shower running.” She turns on her heel and hurries up the stairs, leaving Theon and Robb on the doorstep, still dripping wet.

“I’m gonna help you get out of this jacket, okay Robb?” whispers Theon, pulling Robb inside and shutting the door behind them. He tugs gently at his coat, still wrapped tightly around Robb’s shoulders, but Robb just pulls it closer around him, so Theon sighs and gets started on Robb’s icy shoelaces. He guides him out of his clothes carefully until Robb is wearing just his boxers and Theon’s jacket. Theon shakes his head like a dog, getting the water that hadn’t already frozen into little crystals while he was outside all over everything around him.

“Come on,” he says, still freezing but head at least feeling a little lighter. “You need to get upstairs."

“I don’t want to,” moans Robb, cuddling closer to Theon, pressing his clammy little hands against the small of Theon’s back, sliding them up in between his skin and his still wet shirt. “You’re warm.”

Theon laughs, even as he can feel his heartbeat speeding up. It’s probably just a delayed reaction to the cold. “The shower’s warmer.”

Robb grumbles, but still allows Theon to half guide, half carry him up the stairs to the bathroom, where steam is just beginning to seep out the crack of the door.

“Okay Robb, you’re gonna have to take off the jacket now,” says Theon, tugging at the sleeves again.

“No,” says Robb, crossing his arms in the same way that Arya does any time Sansa does just about anything. “It was a gift from my best friend.”

Theon rolls his eyes. He didn’t know it was possible for people to get delirious from the cold. All he wants is to get Robb into the shower so that he can get home and get warmed up, and maybe get shouted at by his father for being an idiot and helping the boy that Balon has never even approved of him being friends with. 

“Well, your best friend needs it back right now, okay? But you can have it tomorrow.”

Robb frowns but finally allows Theon to pull the coat off of him and push him into the bathroom where his mother is waiting.

Theon determinedly doesn’t look when Robb finally takes off his boxers and gets into the shower.

“I’ll just head home now,” says Theon, wandering towards the door. “Since Robb’s okay.”

Theon knows she knows what his family is like, knows Catelyn wouldn’t approve of him even if he weren’t almost three years older than Robb, or hadn’t just let him fall into an icy lake and possibly catch pneumonia, and he doesn’t want to stay in a house where he isn’t wanted. He figures it’s better to leave of his own choice than to be chased out with metaphorical torches and pitchforks. He thinks maybe he should just see Robb at school from now on.

He’s halfway down the stairs when a voice interrupts his thoughts. 

“Don’t be stupid.”

He stops, and slowly turns around. “What?”

Catelyn sighs. “It’s below freezing out there, you’ll catch your death of cold.”

“It’s fine, really. I mean, I have a shower at home, and my clothes...”

Catelyn rolls her eyes. “You’ve been friends with Robb for years, just get in the shower with him. I won’t have a thirteen year old boy’s death on my conscience.”

“Fourteen,” corrects Theon, but he follows her up the stairs and back into the bathroom anyways.

ii.  
The second time it happens, Robb has just turned fifteen, and Theon is seventeen, and it’s Theon’s fault too. Robb hasn’t been in water deeper than the bathtub since what he and Theon have taken to referring to as “The Great Lake Incident of 2004,” and he has no desire to change that. He’s made a few vague promises to Theon in the past few years, especially since Theon got a job at the local swimming pool, but he had no plan on actually following up on them. Theon’s a bit of a twat though, and even though he means well, signing Robb up for swim lessons without telling him is not exactly the birthday present he’d been hoping for. He doesn’t even know where they’re going until it’s too late and Theon’s already woken him up and shoved him into his car, an old beat up Toyota that he stole from his older sister when she decided to buy a pickup truck instead.

“I thought you had work today,” says Robb, pulling his cardigan closer around him and rubbing at his eyes with the heel of his hand, still attempting to wake up, having been shaken out of his dreams less than half an hour previously.

Theon grins. “Who said I don’t?”

“Well, considering I know for a fact that your shift starts at six on Saturdays, and it’s currently...” Robb studies the tiny green clock on Theon’s dashboard that only works if you look at it from just the right angle. “Five forty-three, unless you’re planning on taking me to work with you, I don’t know what else-”

Robb freezes.

“No. No, Theon, it’s my birthday, don’t make me do this,” says Robb, reaching for the door handle. They’re only going at about fifteen miles per hour, if he jumps and rolls he shouldn’t get too hurt. “I thought you were better than this, come on, I know I said I’d learn to swim one day, but not today, it’s too early for this, I’m not doing it, you can’t make me.”

Theon just grins and presses the lock button on the doors.

“Don’t worry Robb,” he says, reaching over to ruffle the redhead’s still sleep mussed curls. “I’ll be next to you the whole time. No one ever comes in until at least 8 on Saturdays anyways.”

Robb tries and fails to feel comforted by that.

“I don’t want to,” he grumbles, crossing his arms over his chest.

“How about this,” says Theon, pressing hard on the gas pedal to make it through a yellow light before it changes. Someone honks at him, and he throws up his middle finger lazily, not taking his eyes off the road. “I help you for an hour, and if you still think it’s that awful, I’ll never bring it up again.”

Robb isn’t completely sure he believes him, but he takes his hand off the door handle and leans back in his seat. “Fine. But you’re buying me hot chocolate from Lannister’s on the way home.”

“Yeah, alright,” says Theon, pulling into the parking lot and turning off his car. “Oh, and here,” he says, pulling a pair of swim trunks from the back seat and tossing them into Robb’s hands. “Now don’t ever say I never gave you anything.”

Robb has a sinking feeling in his chest that he’s going to regret this.

********

It only takes about about ten minutes for his feeling to prove correct. It has, surprisingly enough, nothing to do with the pool itself, and everything to do with the fact that Theon has apparently, in the six months since Robb last saw him shirtless, gotten a six pack and started to grow chest hair. Robb knows he’s attracted to boys, he’s known since the eighth grade, but he had not been planning on sharing that bit of information with Theon, and if that’s what his friend looks like now, he’s not sure that he’s going to be able to make it through this lesson without accidentally letting something slip.

“Robb? Robb, you okay?” asks Theon, giving him a strange look.

Robb jerks his eyes away from Theon’s chest, a blush dusting his cheeks. “Yeah, sorry. I’m just, uh, nervous about this.”

“Come on then,” says Theon, jerking his head towards the showers. “It’s easier if you just go for it. Don’t give yourself time to overthink.”

“Yeah, okay.”

Robb is suddenly significantly less nervous about the swimming itself and a lot more nervous about Theon laughing at him. The nerves multiply tenfold when Theon turns on the shower, running one hand through his dark hair.

“You coming?” asks Theon, looking back towards Robb, who’s standing frozen again for the second time in as many minutes. If he’d thought Theon looked good before, it’s nothing compared to how he looks now, hair slicked back out of his face, water running down his pale, well toned back and over the biceps that Robb hadn’t even realized he had. Robb gulps. 

“I hope not,” he mutters.

“What?”

“Nothing,” he says, stepping forward and turning on his shower too. “Nothing at all.”

His fear of Theon laughing at him lasts until the first time it actually happens, right before Theon swims over to him and puts his hands on Robb’s stomach and back in an attempt to correct his form. If Robb doesn’t pick up swimming as fast as he picks up most other things, he convinces himself it has nothing to do with how Theon’s fingers feel against his bare skin.

iii.  
Amazingly enough, the third time is not Theon or Robb’s fault, it’s Joffrey Lannister’s. Joffrey is a sophomore, like Robb, and Robb doesn’t know why, but Joffrey has hated him ever since he moved to Winterfell with his mother and little siblings in the seventh grade. Robb had tried to brush it off; just because one person didn’t like him, it didn’t mean that no one else did. Unfortunately for Robb though, Joffrey’s uncle Jaime owns the most popular coffee shop in town, so Joffrey’s hatred meant that the majority of their class started hating him, too. The hatred has only gotten worse since what Robb refers to in his head as The Loras Incident a few months previously, and by the time baseball season comes around in the spring of their sophomore year, Robb’s doing everything possible to avoid antagonizing him even further, which includes waiting until the rest of the team has showered and left the locker room before he heads in there. He doesn’t really feel like avoiding Joffrey’s glares every time he so much as glances at one of the other boys. Robb’s never exactly had good luck though, and he shouldn’t be surprised when he’s standing in the shower and Theon comes in, just wearing his swim team issued swim shorts and a pair of goggles around his neck. Robb blushes, returns his gaze to the bricks in front of him, practically staring a hole right through them, and prays that Theon won’t notice him.

“Hey Robb,” says Theon, and Robb hears the dull slap of Theon’s shorts hitting the floor of the showers. He can feel the blush on his cheeks deepening. He should have just stayed with the team and tried to deal with Joffrey’s glares.

“What are you doing in here?” asks Theon. “I thought baseball practice got out like half an hour ago.”

“What are you doing here?” asks Robb. “I thought swim team was in the fall.”

Theon laughs. “Fair enough. I was just practicing. Having your uncle as the swim coach has its perks. Now stop dodging my question.”

“I was avoiding Joffrey,” mutters Robb, staring at his feet.

“You were what?” asks Theon, and, to Robb’s horror, turns off his shower and moves closer so he can use the shower directly next to Robb’s. Robb very determinedly does not move his eyes from the spot on the wall in front of him. There’s a crack down the middle of the brick he’s staring at that looks like a bit like a lighting bolt.

“I was avoiding Joffrey,” he forces out, barely louder than before.

“You were-” Theon sighs. “God dammit Robb, you’ve got to stop letting him affect you like this.”

Robb sighs. “I can’t.”

“Can’t or won’t?”

“Can’t,” says Robb through gritted teeth.

Theon sighs. “Robb, you’re never going to get anywhere if you don’t stop letting people push you around all the-”

“He told me that if I didn’t stop showering at the same time as him then he’d tell the whole baseball team that he caught me making out with Loras Tyrell in a broom closet last semester,” snaps Robb, the words tumbling out before he even has a chance to stop them. He freezes the moment he’s done, still not brave enough to look over at Theon. He can feel the boy’s gaze on him though, and he reaches forward, shutting the shower off, spinning around and walking out of the shower room, leaving Theon standing there, silent and gaping.

He’s dried himself off and is halfway through putting his clothes back on by the time Theon walks up to him, and Robb’s surprised to see that he’s still wearing nothing but a towel, slung low on his hips.

“So are you like, gay then?” asks Theon, leaning against the locker next to Robb’s.

“Bi,” says Robb, focusing more intently on tying his shoe than he really needs to.

“Okay,” says Theon, shrugging and turning around, heading back towards his locker.

Robb finishes tying his shoe and follows behind him. “Okay?”

Theon throws his towel on top of the row of lockers and reaches for his boxers. Robb pointedly looks away. “You don’t have a thing for me or anything, do you?” he asks, pulling them up over his thighs.

“No!” says Robb, a little too quickly. Theon glances up at him questioningly and Robb blushes. “No,” he says again, softer. “Of course not. That would be like being attracted to Jon,” he adds, hoping Theon can’t tell that he’s lying through his teeth.

“Then I don’t see why it should be a problem. I think I should warn you that Loras is kind of a douchebag though. I had precalc with him last year, and he spent the whole time telling everyone that he was only a sophomore in senior level math. I think he finished the class with a C.”

Robb snorts. “Well don’t worry, he dumped me when Joffrey’s uncle Renly came to visit.”

“Shit, I’m sorry Robb.”

Robb shrugs. “It’s fine. He wasn’t really my type anyways, he was just out and interested.”

“What is your type then?” asks Theon, waggling his eyebrows.

“I don’t know,” says Robb, shrugging. “Probably more like Margaery than Loras.” Loras’ younger sister was the first girl he’d ever had a real crush on. He’d never really considered that he might have a type before, but now that he's thinking about Margaery's brown curls, pale skin and perpetual smirk, he thinks maybe he does have one after all.

iv.  
The way Robb’s luck goes, he shouldn’t be surprised when the fourth time it happens, it’s Theon’s fault again. It’s Robb’s twenty first birthday, and all he really wanted to do was go out and get drunk with his best friend and his cousin, and somehow, he ends up babysitting. Jon had shown up with his girlfriend in tow, promptly disappeared, no doubt to go find a dark corner to make out in, and Theon had apparently decided that that was his cue to get completely shitfaced. Robb’s babysat for a drunk Theon before, and normally it isn’t a problem, but Theon has never gotten quite this drunk, and he’s completely forgone his giggly and clingy stage, and gone straight to flirting with anything with a pulse. Robb has had to drag Theon away from two different girls who threw drinks at him already, and he’s more than ready to just give up and drag Theon back home when his phone rings.

“Theon, I’ll be back in five minutes, okay?” asks Robb, patting his friend on the shoulder and slipping off his barstool. Theon just nods, continuing to leer at the pretty redhead sitting across the bar from him, and Robb rolls his eyes, making his way through the crowd to find somewhere quiet to answer his phone. By the time he looks back, the girl has taken his seat, and he feels a rush of anger shoot through him. He forces it down though, turns back to face the wall, and answers his phone.

“Hello?”

“Hey Robb!” says his sister’s voice, and he brightens, even if it’s only slightly.

“Sansa!” he says with a small smile. “How are you?”

“Good, good. Listen, I’m really sorry it’s so late, I’m with Joffrey and I told him I had to call you but he kept saying that you could wait and then all of a sudden I realized it was almost midnight, and what kind of sister would I be if I didn’t talk to you on your birthday at all, right? And then I slipped away to call you and wish you a happy birthday. So, you know, happy birthday.”

“Thanks Sansa,” says Robb, smiling. “You, uh, you know you don’t have to do everything he tells you to do, right?” he adds, feeling like he’s had this conversation before but not being able to place where.

Sansa sighs loudly. “Stop worrying about me Robb, I’m eighteen, I know what I’m doing.”

“Hey, you’re my baby sister, it’s my job to worry about you. Especially when you’re dating Joffrey Lannister.”

“If you really want to worry about one of your baby sisters, call Arya, she’s the one dating a nineteen year old who never wears a shirt.”

“She’s what?” splutters Robb.

Sansa giggles. “It’s your birthday, go hang out with your boyfriend and worry about Arya tomorrow.”

“I- Theon’s not-”

“Who said anything about Theon?” asks Sansa, and Robb can practically hear her smirking over the phone. “Have a good night Robb.”

He’s about to continue protesting when he realizes she’s already hung up, and he heads back to the bar with a sigh, to find Theon with his arm around the back of the redhead’s chair, whispering something in her ear. She giggles and slides her hand up his thigh, and Robb steps forward, putting his arm around Theon’s shoulders.

“Hey, we’ve got to go,” he says, pulling him off the barstool. Theon stumbles slightly but rights himself quickly, leaning heavily on Robb’s shoulder. “Sorry,” he adds, grimacing at the girl in a way that he’s fairly sure doesn’t actually make him look sorry at all. She doesn’t seem to notice.

“Call me sometime, okay?” she says, scribbling her number onto a napkin and pressing it into Theon’s hand. Theon grins dopily, and Robb rolls his eyes.

“Yeah, great,” says Theon, and she giggles prettily. Robb wants to throttle her. “Bye...” he pauses, looking down at the napkin. “Rose.”

She titters again. “Ros.”

“Theon,” he says, gesturing to himself.

“I know,” she says. “You told me that already.”

Robb thinks that if he rolls his eyes one more time, they’re going to get stuck. “Sorry Ros,” he says again, cutting off whatever Theon was going to say. “But we really need to go. Theon will call you tomorrow.” He drags Theon away before Ros even has a chance to reply.

“I was talking to her,” whines Theon.

Robb sighs and walks down the hallway to the bathroom, hoping he can find Jon and Ygritte and tell them that they’re leaving. “You can talk to her tomorrow when you’re sober.”

Theon grumbles something under his breath that Robb doesn’t even try to understand, moving towards the mass of red curls at the end of the hallway instead, hoping that it’s who he thinks it is. He clears his throat behind her, and she pulls away from Jon with a slurping noise. Robb cringes.

“What?” asks Ygritte, as Jon stands between her and the wall, looking slightly dazed, hair so fluffy his head looks twice its normal size.

“We’re leaving.”

“What?” asks Jon, finally regaining his brain to mouth function. “But we just got here.”

Robb snorts. “We’ve been here like an hour and a half. And I’m not saying you have to leave, I just have to get the drunken jackass home.”

“Hey,” says Theon, punching Robb’s shoulder lightly, but he’s giggling, so Robb figures he can’t be that offended. He probably won’t even remember this in the morning.

“Shit,” says Jon, running a hand through his hair, only succeeding at making it even fluffier than it was before. “I’m sorry. Can we get lunch or something tomorrow? I’ll pay.”

“Yeah, sure,” says Robb, grabbing onto Theon’s hand as he tries to wander away. “Look, we’ve really got to go. I’ll call you when I wake up, okay?”

“Great. Have a good night,” says Jon.

“You too.”

“Oh, and Robb?” calls Jon after him as he turns and starts down the hallway.

“Yeah?” he asks, looking back over his shoulder.

Jon looks from him, to Theon, to their still clasped hands, and then back up to Robb, opens his mouth, closes it, clears his throat, and finally speaks. “Just... Happy birthday.”

Robb grins. “Thanks, man.”

“You two crazy kids have fun!” shouts Theon over his shoulder as Robb turns around and walks back down the hallways to the exit, pulling Theon along with him. He doesn’t even realize they’re still holding hands until they’re climbing into a cab and he’s giving the driver directions to their flat. He glances over at Theon, who is leaning his head back against his headrest, eyes closed, smiling serenely, and he feels a fond smile spreading across his face too. He squeezes Theon’s hand gently, and Theon squeezes his back. Neither of them let go.

“You two together?” asks the cabbie, a massive man with a scar covering half his face, glancing at them in his center mirror.

“Oh, we’re just-” starts Robb, but Theon cuts him off.

“Yeah, it was three years in May, right Pookie?” he asks, leaning across the seat to place a large, wet kiss on Robb’s cheek. Robb wants to slap himself for getting butterflies.

“Uh, yeah, right,” he says, not really sure where Theon is going with this.

“‘Course, I’d been crushing on him since high school, hadn’t I?” he continues, and Robb starts and glances over at him. He hadn’t thought Theon would keep talking about their “relationship” or he might have denied it to begin with. “Although how could you not, really? Have you seen those curls? Girls go wild for those curls. Damn near kissed him when he came out to me. But I asked him if he liked me like it was a joke or something and he told me it’d be like liking his cousin Jon.”

Robb is surprised that Theon even remembers that, let alone that he’s bringing it up now. Still though, Theon is completely smashed, and Robb doubts he’ll remember this in the morning, so he figures he should let him have his fun.

“Right,” says Robb. “And I liked him too, had for like a year, but I was so worried that saying anything would ruin our friendship.”

“And then he asked me to his senior prom with him as friends, but-”

The cabbie cuts him off. “Look kid, your story’s sweet and all, but I was just asking if you’re going to the same place. I’m gonna take that as a yes though.”

Theon giggles and buries his face in the crook between Robb’s neck and shoulder. “Sorry,” says Robb, and he’s sure his face is as red as his hair now. “Yeah, we’re going to the same place.” Theon is still giggling into his neck, breath hot on his skin, and Robb’s having a little trouble breathing. He’s trying to decide if enjoying this counts as taking advantage of Theon, considering how drunk he is, when Theon stops giggling, and bites Robb’s shoulder instead. Robb gasps, and Theon takes it as an invitation to keep going, sucking on his skin gently, swiping out his tongue to sooth it, then starting sucking again.

“Theon,” hisses Robb, pushing him away with as much force as he can muster, which isn’t very much. “Theon, we are in a cab.” Theon makes a high pitched whining noise in the back of his throat.

The cabbie snorts. “Just don’t get anything on my seats.”

Theon seems to think that means he can go back to what he was doing, and, as little as he wants to, Robb is forced to push him away.

“We can continue this later, okay?” he says, not sure if he’s hoping that Theon will have forgotten his promise by the time they get to the apartment or not. Theon groans, and returns his head to Robb’s shoulder, but at least he stops with the biting. Robb lets out a long breath and leans his head back against the seat, eyes fluttering shut. He doesn’t even realize he’s fallen asleep until the cab driver is waking him up to tell him that they’ve arrived at the flat.

“Hey, it’s $17.30,” says the cabbie turning around to look at them. Robb rubs at his eyes blearily, digs a twenty out of his wallet and shoves it in the man’s hand, pulling a still delirious and half asleep Theon out of the car with him.

“Have a good night,” says Robb, shutting the door behind him.

Getting Theon up to the eighth floor takes a lot more effort than Robb had hoped it would. He mentally curses their super, and the fact that he hasn’t gotten around to getting the elevator fixed since it broke back in April, and flings his arms around Theon’s waist, practically dragging him up the stairs.

“Oh Robb,” giggles Theon, leaning on him much heavier than Robb suspects is really necessary. “I didn’t know you felt that way about me.”

Robb groans and pulls on Theon harder, hoping it will make him shut up. Unfortunately, it only seems to make him more determined, and he pushes Robb up against a wall the moment they reach the third landing. “You like it rough, huh?” he asks, leaning down and nipping at the bruise that Robb can feel blooming on his throat. He lets out an involuntary groan, and Theon looks up at him, smirking wickedly, in a way that goes straight to Robb’s dick. He’s half hard already, and no matter how much he wants to continue this, right here next to apartment 311, he can’t let himself take advantage of Theon like that.

“Theon, stop,” he says, pushing his friend away firmly, hands right in the middle of his chest. “You’re drunk.”

“Drunk on you, baby,” hums Theon, trying to return his mouth to Robb’s shoulder.

Robb chokes back what is either a laugh or a sob, and returns to trying to pull a staggering Theon up the stairs with him. “Come on Theon, just go upstairs and go to bed and we can talk about this in the morning,” grumbles Robb.

Theon sighs and mutters something along the lines of, "I'd go to bed with you any time," but, thankfully, lets Robb pull him the rest of the way up the stairs without any more stops. By the time they get to the apartment, Robb is exhausted, and all he really wants to do is go to sleep and pretend the whole night never happened.

That’s when Theon decides that he won’t go to bed until he takes a shower so he can get the residue of the drinks that were thrown at him out of his hair. Robb goes into the kitchen to get a glass of water as Theon starts the shower, and he’s trying to figure out if it would be safe to leave Theon alone for the rest of the night when he hears a loud thump and a muffled “fuck” from the bathroom over the sound of the water running. Robb groans, puts his glass of water down on the counter and heads into the bathroom.

“Theon? You okay?”

“No,” whines Theon, sounding less like he’s actually injured and more like a petulant four year old. Robb sighs.

“I’m going to bed.”

“No,” whines Theon again, stretching the word out as long as he can.

“What do you want me to do then?”

“Stay with me.”

Robb can’t help but smile, just a little. He knows he shouldn’t find this cute, and should be telling Theon just how pathetic he is right now, but he just can’t seem to make himself do it.

“Fine,” he says, sitting down on the closed toilet seat. He figures he can wait until tomorrow morning to give Theon shit about this.

They’re both silent for a moment, and Robb is about to say something when there’s another crash from inside the shower.

“Jesus shit!” shouts Theon, and Robb springs to his feet immediately.

“What happened?”

“The shampoo thingie fell off the wall.”

“You mean you knocked the shampoo thing off the wall?”

Theon says nothing.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” grumbles Theon. “Wait, no. I hurt my foot.” There’s a thump, which Robb assumes is Theon leaning heavily against the wall, and then Theon starts giggling again.

Robb sighs for what seems like the hundredth time that night.

“Robb, I’m bleeding,” giggles Theon, and Robb hesitates for a moment before finally giving up and pulling the shower curtain aside to find Theon, sitting cross legged on the floor, surrounded by soap and shampoo and conditioner bottles, foot bleeding profusely, and still giggling.

“Fuck, Theon,” groans Robb, trying very hard not to stare. “Come on, get up.”

“I like the way you say my name,” says Theon, not moving. “Thee-yawn. ‘S cute.”

“It’s the same way you say it, now get up before you bleed out.”

“Not gonna bleed out, don’t be silly Robbie,” says Theon, but he makes an effort to stand up, hands slipping on the sides of the tub. Robb groans, leaning forward and taking Theon by the arms, pulling him to his feet, the hot water of the shower soaking his hair and the shoulders of his t-shirt. Theon giggles the whole time, and Robb barely manages to not roll his eyes.

“Yer a good friend Robb,” slurs Theon, once Robb’s gotten him mostly standing, and is holding a towel in front of him, looking anywhere besides Theon.

“I know,” sighs Robb as Theon takes the towel and wraps it around his waist. “Now sit down so I can bandage your foot.”

Robb pulls his soaked shirt off and throws it in the sink before leading Theon over to the toilet so he can sit on the closed lid. He sits on the floor in front of him, placing Theon’s foot gently in his lap. He's gotten the cut disinfected and is just putting a bandage over it when Theon speaks again.

“I don’t deserve you.”

“What?” asks Robb, head jerking up in shock.

“You’re so good. I’m not good like you.”

“I think you’re good,” says Robb quietly, looking back down to the bandage..

“No I’m not,” laughs Theon. “If you’d gotten drunk and cut your foot I would’ve just laughed at you.”

Robb is silent for a moment, then he laughs too. “Yeah, that’s probably true. Okay, I am too good for you.”

“Hey, you’re not supposed to agree,” says Theon, hitting him gently on the shoulder.

“Well you’re not supposed to hit your doctor,” says Robb, looking up at Theon. "For all you know I could have your life in my hands right now."

“That's not my life, it's my foot," giggles Theon. "And besides, I don't want you to be my doctor. I'd rather you be my sexy nurse."

Robb knows he’s supposed to say something witty in reply, make a joke about how he’d be the sexiest nurse, or maybe laugh it off, make some sort of unspoken “no homo,” because that’s what any best friend is supposed to do in this situation. He’s still trying to decide what exactly to say when he realizes he’s already waited too long, and he’s staring. He knows he should look away, but he just can’t make himself do it. Theon’s tongue darts out and wets his lips, and Robb can’t resist it any longer. He surges upwards, pressing his lips to Theon’s urgently, one of his hands flying up to cup Theon’s cheek. Theon moans deep in his throat and pulls Robb closer, hands tangling in his hair. Theon’s lips are even more perfect under his than he ever could have imagined, soft and warm and tasting faintly of vodka.

“Fuck, Robb, yes,” breathes Theon against his mouth, and Robb is suddenly aware of the awkward position he’s in, half crouching in front of Theon, one knee between his legs on the toilet lid.

“Come on,” says Robb, pulling him to his feet and out of the bathroom, across the hall and into the first bedroom he can get to. 

“I lost my towel,” giggles Theon, falling backwards onto his bed, Robb following him hungrily, silencing his giggles with another kiss. Theon nips Robb’s bottom lip gently, eliciting a quiet moan, and he’s never been this hard from just kissing, and he can feel Theon getting hard too, even after everything he drank that night, and all of a sudden, Robb realizes what he’s doing.

“Fuck,” he says, pulling backwards. Theon whines and tries to follow Robb’s mouth with his own, but quickly gives up, head flopping back onto the mattress. “Fuck, I can’t do this, you’re drunk, I’m sorry.”

“I’ve had sex drunk,” says Theon, and Robb nearly chokes.

“Theon, we were just - and you’re - I mean - not that I don’t want to - but you - fuck.”

“I was thinking you could do the fucking actually.”

“Jesus Christ, Theon.”

“Yes, Robb?”

Robb sighs. “I can’t.”

“Can we tomorrow?”

“Yeah,” says Robb, not even quite sure how they got here but definitely not minding it. “Yeah, tomorrow.”

********

Theon wakes up the next morning, completely naked under his comforter, with what’s quite possibly the worst headache of his life, to find Robb sitting on the end of his bed, a bright grin on his face and a cup of coffee in his hand.

“Morning,” says Robb, holding the mug out for Theon.

“Ugh, morning,” says Theon, rubbing at his head and taking the cup, gulping it down. It’s just cool enough to drink, with extra sugar and no milk, just the way he likes it. “Thanks,” he says, forcing his face into what he hopes looks like a smile.

“No problem,” says Robb, still smiling at him in a way that is too bright for any Sunday morning, let alone one when Theon feels this terrible. “You practically drank an entire liquor store last night.”

Theon takes another long drink of his coffee and sighs in relief. His headache seems to be fading, at least a little, but it’s still way too bright in his room. “Can you close that curtain? I would, but I’m not really wearing anything.”

“I told you to put on pants before you went to bed,” sighs Robb, getting up and crossing the room to the window, his voice fond. “Uh, speaking of, how much of last night do you actually remember?

“Too much,” grumbles Theon, sipping at his coffee slowly now that he’s managed to chug down the first half of it. “Did I really give you a hickie?”

Robb laughs and turns away from the window, pulling down his shirt collar to reveal a large, purpling bruise.

“Shit, I’m so sorry. I get really touchy when I drink.”

“Don’t worry about it,” says Robb, sitting back down on the edge of the bed. “But, do you remember-”

Theon cringes, remembering the blur of the night before and all the embarrassing things he said. “Let’s not talk about it.”

“Oh,” says Robb. Theon is looking back into his now empty coffee cup and doesn’t see Robb’s face fall. “Okay. Yeah. I’ll just, uh, let you get dressed.”

“Thanks. And, uh, sorry again about last night.”

“It’s fine,” says Robb, a little too quickly. “Just... forget about it.”

 

v.  
Robb would love to say that the fifth time is Theon’s fault too. He’d love to say that he has nothing to do with it, that he’s completely free of blame, but honestly, he should know by now that avoiding Theon for any sort of extended period of time will end in bizarre and potentially disastrous consequences. He assumed that Theon would have matured by now though, considering it’s been almost four years since the time Robb walked in on him fucking Jeyne Poole and avoided him for a week and a half, and five years since Robb came out to him in the school locker room and avoided him for six days, and even longer since he felt Theon’s touch burn its way into his skin during those awful swim lessons, and shut a little piece of himself away for good.

He thought Theon would have reached a point where he could talk things out logically instead of feeling the need to corner Robb in random places, or shout things at him in the middle of study hall when he felt that he was being ignored. Clearly, he thought wrong.

In retrospect, he’s a little proud of himself for making it almost two weeks without having more than a couple of awkward, stilted conversations with Theon. He should have known it was a matter of time before Theon cornered him though, but even if he had been expecting it, he wouldn’t have thought it would happen like this.

Robb is in the shower, and maybe he’s washing his hair a little more thoroughly than he normally would, and maybe he’s been in the shower for almost fifteen minutes already, but it has everything to do with the fact that he had a really long day at work and nothing to do with the fact that Theon has his third date with Ros starting in less than half an hour. Not even a little bit.

"Robert Jonathan Stark!” shouts Theon, pounding on the door for the third time in as many minutes. “Hurry the fuck up!”

Robb adjusts the heat knob a little bit and says nothing.

Theon waits for a moment before he starts knocking again. “Come on Robb, I know you’re mad at me for something but that’s no reason to make me late for my date!”

Robb snorts quietly but says nothing.

“I heard that!” shouts Theon.

Robb barely resists the urge to shout back, “You were supposed to!”

“Come on Robb, you’ve been in there for like twenty minutes, how are you not done yet?”

Robb sighs. “I’ll be out in a minute.”

He makes no move to turn off the shower, and starts conditioning his hair. He knows he’s just being difficult at this point but he doesn’t really care.

It takes Theon one minute and 43 seconds to start knocking again. “Robb I swear to god if you’re not out of that shower in the next thirty seconds I am getting in there with you!”

Robb does nothing. There's no doubt in his mind that Theon would never actually get in the shower with him.

Robb is very, very wrong.

He thinks very little of it as Theon wrenches the door open, assuming he is just coming in to shout at him some more, but then the shower curtain is opening and Theon is stepping into the shower with him and Robb is naked and Theon is naked and Robb doesnt even realize he's opened his mouth until he's already shouting.

"What the fucking fuck, Theon?" shouts Robb, almost falling over in his haste to get as far away from Theon as fast as he can. Theon reaches out a hand to catch his elbow as he slips backwards, but Robb jerks away, his back pressed flat against the wall behind him. He briefly considers trying to cover himself up a little, but quickly gives up; it's already too late anyways.

"I warned you," says Theon with a shrug, reaching for the soap. 

Robb lets out a noise that's half groan, half scream, and flings the shower curtain aside, grabbing his towel from the edge of the sink and wrapping it around his waist tightly. "Fucking hell, Theon, you can't just do things like that! With your other friends maybe, but not with me."

"Got you out of the shower, didn't it?"

"That's not- it doesn't-" Robb groans in frustration again, tangling his fingers in his auburn curls. "Look, you said you didn't want to talk about it, so I didn't talk about it, but this is just too much! I can't fucking deal with it anymore!"

He's out the out of the room and the door is slamming behind him before Theon can even reply.

*********

Robb is already dressed and ready to leave when he realizes that he doesn't have anywhere to go. Jon and Ygritte left that morning to visit her parents up north, and Sansa's probably with Joffrey, and this is really not the kind of problem he wants to go to his parents or Arya with. Not for the first time, Robb wishes he had more friends.

He tries to figure out what each of his siblings would say to him in this situation. Arya would just tell him to punch Theon in the nose and get over it, Bran would say something deep and philosophical that doesn't really make any sense, and Rickon would probably just ask to be ring bearer at the wedding.

Sansa and Jon are his only family members that he can honestly picture giving him any sort of decent advice. He's sure that Jon would roll his eyes, offer him a cigarette, and tell him he could do better, but that if he really wants Theon so badly he should just man up and tell him, just like he's been telling Robb for years. Sansa would spend half the conversation sighing about how romantic the whole situation is, even though Robb is completely failing to see how this is romantic at all, and if he had to describe it, he probably would have just called it pathetic. He knows that she would tell him to just tell Theon how he feels too though, and yet he can't stop himself from taking out his phone and calling her anyways, hoping that maybe she'll tell him that his current plan of hiding in his room until their lease is up is a good one.

He sits down at the kitchen table with the mismatched legs that Theon had dragged home from a yard sale the year before, and waits for Sansa to answer.

The phone rings almost six times before Sansa finally answers, sounding flustered and out of breath.

“Hello?”

“Uh, hey Sansa. Is it a bad time?”

Sansa giggles a muffled, “Hey, stop it, I’m talking to Robb,” before she answers him. “No, sorry, I was actually going to call you later anyways. What’s up?”

“I-” Robb pauses. “It’s not important. What did you want to call me about?”

“Oh, um, it’s kind of a long story.”

Robb glances at the hallways to the bathroom. He can still hear the shower running, but he doesn’t know how long that’s going to last, or if Theon will even try to talk to him after he gets out.

“Go ahead.”

“Okay, so you know how the other day you told me-" she stops midsentence with a giggle and another hushed, “stop it,” before she continues speaking. “Sorry. Um, you know what, it’s gonna take forever to tell you, what's going on with you?"

“Yeah, um, it's kind of a long story too, but the shower just turned off so I can't really tell you right now."

“I... Don’t really know what that means. Can you come over?”

Robb glances at his watch, then up to where he can hear the bathroom door opening, and makes a decision that in retrospect he will probably think of as the wrong one.

"Yeah, um, can I actually just stay at yours tonight?" asks Robb, jumping to his feet and grabbing his coat.

"I don't see why not," says Sansa. "Can you meet me at that cafe down the street from my place?"

"Perfect," says Robb, slamming the door behind him. "Be there in fifteen. Gotta go, bye."

He hangs up before Sansa has a chance to say anything else.

********

Robb gets to the cafe five minutes earlier than he'd promised to find Sansa huddled in a booth in the corner with Margaery Tyrell. They're speaking in voices too low for him to hear, but he recognizes the look on Sansa's face, he sees it on himself every time he sees a photo of him and Theon together, and he wonders when exactly he got so out of touch with his little sister's life that he never noticed her falling in love with her best friend. He's tempted to just turn around and walk back out of the little coffee shop, leave the two girls to their moment, but he has nowhere else to go and Margaery has just noticed him anyways and is waving him over to their table.

"I thought you'd be with Joffrey," says Robb in lieu of a hello, sitting down in the wooden chair across the table from them.

Sansa's face falls. "No, we, uh, broke up last week."

"Oh," says Robb, trying as hard as he can to sound upset about it, but not doing very well. "I'm sorry."

Margaery giggles. "No you're not."

Robb tries again. "What happened?"

Sansa shrugs. "It was stupid, really. We hadn't been doing well in months, and then we got in this huge fight because I said I was thinking about cutting my hair, and it just got out of control. So I stormed out and I was wondering if I should try to fix things when I, uh, got a better offer," she says, shooting Margaery a smile and twisting their fingers together.

"You say that like it was a business deal or something," says Margaery, but the smile on her face matches Sansa's, and Robb can't help but smile too.

"Looks like dad's gonna have to wait for Bran to get married if he wants to have grandkids," says Robb.

"What about-" Sansa stops in the mid-sentence, apparently actually thinking about what would happen if Arya ever decided she wanted children. "So how are things with Theon?" she asks after a moment, both her and Robb trying very hard not to think about the possibility of more little Aryas running around.

Robb groans and puts his head in his hands. "That's the problem," he mumbles into his palms. "He's fine. Great, even. He's on a date right now."

"A real date?" asks Margaery.

Robb nods miserably. "Yeah, they're going to dinner and everything."

Sansa looks from Margaery to Robb in confusion. "Doesn't Theon date all the time?"

Robb laughs, but it's Margaery who answers her. "Theon doesn't date at all."

"But I thought you dated Theon."

Margaery smirks. "What Theon and I were doing definitely wasn't dating."

"What do you..." Sansa pauses, her cheeks flushing pink. "Oh! You were... Oh. Right."

Margaery giggles. "You're cute when you blush like that."

The waiter brings out their drinks then, saving Robb from having to awkwardly change the subject.

"So what's going on with you?" asks Sansa, taking a sip from her green tea frappucino and pushing the coffee that she ordered for him across the table.

Robb takes a gulp, wincing as the hot liquid burns his throat. "Nothing. Everything. I don't know."

Sansa smiles indulgently and leans forward, resting her chin in one palm. "Why don't you start from the beginning?"

So Robb does. He tells her about his birthday party, and the girl and the drinking and kissing Theon and waking up the next morning only to be told to forget the whole thing ever happened. By the time he finishes, his coffee has gone cold and Sansa's clear plastic cup is empty, save for a mushy, half melted green quarter inch at the bottom.

"So then I called you," he says, taking a sip from the nearly empty cup in front of him, frowning slightly at the temperature. "And you told me to meet you here."

Margaery and Sansa exchange a meaningful glance, and Robb feels as if he's about to get a talk from his parents.

"Robb," says Sansa, leaning forward and covering his hand with hers, a motion that is so very Catelyn that he has to resist the urge to laugh. "Have you ever considered the possibility that, well..." She shoots Margaery a look that plainly says, "help me," and Margaery complies with a faint smile.

"How much did you say Theon drank that night?"

Robb looks at her in confusion. "Umm, I don't know... Too much?"

"And what do people tend to do the morning after they drink too much?"

"Get hangovers?"

Sansa and Margaery exchange another exasperatedly fond look and Robb tries not to return his forehead to the table in front of him.

"I think what Margaery is trying to say is that if Theon really had as much to drink as you said he did then maybe he just... Forgot."

"Forgot?"

The girls nod in sync.

"Once Margaery drank so much that she stood up on a table and sang the entirety of Toxic by Britney Spears, and she didn't remember it until I showed her the video like a week later."

"And thank you so much for bringing up that painful memory," frowns Margaery. "But she does make a good point."

"So what do you think I should do then?"

Margaery smirks. "Well isn't it obvious? You've got to make him remember."

"How am I supposed to do that?"

Margaery's smirk gets even wider. "I think you'll figure it out."

 

vi.

Theon is sitting at the kitchen table with the mismatched legs, playing with his keys, when Robb gets home the next morning.

"Hey," says Theon quietly, glancing up quickly only to return his gaze to the keychain that Robb had bought for him when he'd visited Scotland with his family the summer before.

"Hey," says Robb, shutting the door behind him without turning to look at it.

"There's tea in the kitchen if you want some."

Robb walks into the kitchen, not sure what else to do, and pours the tea into his favorite mug, the one with the picture of the wolf howling at the moon that Theon had bought for him when they moved into their apartment together . "How was your date?" he asks.

Theon clears his throat awkwardly. "I, uh, didn't go."

"Oh?" asks Robb, pouring far too much sugar into his cup and stirring it vigorously, more to have something to do with his hands than because he really wants it. "Ros must be devastated."

"She'll get over it," says Theon. "But I wasn't sure if you would."

"If I'd get over what? You not going on your date?"

"Robb, that's not-"

"Because you're allowed to date whoever you want, I don't want to be getting in the way," says Robb as calmly as he can, keeping his gaze on the tiny whirlpool starting to form in the dark liquid in his mug. "Or did you not know if I'd get over your little joke yesterday? Because that's all it was, yeah, a stupid joke? It's not like-"

"I don't know!" shouts Theon, throwing his keys down on the table and jumping to his feet, the chair he'd been sitting in making a loud screech against the floor as he pushed it away. "I don't fucking know, okay Robb? Because you won't tell me! We were best friends one day and now you won't even look at me and I don't know what the fuck I did wrong!"

"You said you didn't want to talk about it," snaps Robb, still refusing to turn around. "You said you didn't want to fucking talk about it, but I didn't think you'd just pretend it didn't happen, okay?"

"You said that yesterday!" shouts Theon. "But what did I not want to talk about? Please Robb, fucking enlighten me!"

It's as if all the fight drains out of Robb all at once. Finally, he carefully sets down his mug on the counter in front of him and turns to face Theon's gaze. "You don't... You really don't remember?"

"Don't remember what?"

"The night of my birthday. You don't remember what happened the night of my birthday. They were right."

"I remember making a complete arse out of myself at the bar, but if that's what this is about, I thought you already knew I have a tendency to-"

"Oh for- shut the fuck up Theon," growls Robb, the insistent sound of Margaery's voice in the back of his mind saying "make him remember," over and over. He grabs onto the front of Theon's t-shirt, yanks him forward and makes him remember the only way he can think of, kissing him with all the pent up rage and confusion and frustration of the last few weeks all at once. Theon lets out a quiet gasp but immediately kisses back.

Robb breathes a silent sigh of relief and lets his hands slide down from Theon's shirt to grab onto his hips and pull him closer, kissing him properly, nipping gently at his bottom lip. Theon practically melts into it, his hands flying up to grip Robb's hair so tightly it's almost painful, and Robb pulls away, breathing heavy, hands still gripping Theon's hips.

"You forgot about that," he says, unable to stop himself from grinning brightly, laughing at the completely shocked look on Theon's face.

"I, uh, feel like that's something I would have remembered."

"Yeah, I thought so too."

"Wait, you mean - that's why you were so happy that morning, and then I said I didn't want to talk about it, and then - fuck, Robb. I'm so sorry."

Robb shrugs. "I guess you'll just have to make it up to me then ."

"What do you -" starts Theon, but Robb cuts him off with another kiss, even more desperate than before. His hands are on back Theon's hips, and one of Theon's hands is sliding its way in between Robb's shirt and his back, every place his fingers touch feeling hot and electrified.

"Come on," breathes Robb against Theon's lips, dragging him towards the hallway, spinning around so Theon's back is against one of the doors, their kisses growing messier as they move. Robb moves his head down, kissing a path down Theon's throat, and Theon lets out a breathy moan, one hand still tangled in Robb's hair, the other scrabbling desperately at the door behind him, searching for the doorknob. His fingers finally find the cool metal sphere and the door falls open, both of them stumbling back into the room, Robb sucking hard on the junction between Theon's neck and shoulder.

"Robb, I think this is the wrong room," breathes Theon, a little proud of himself for managing to string together a coherent sentence given the circumstances.

"Hmm?" asks Robb, pulling his head away from Theon's throat, taking the opportunity to pull off his shirt and throw it into the hall behind him.

It takes Theon a moment longer than he's proud of to drag his eyes away from Robb's shirtless chest, all beautiful and toned with just a hint of chest hair, and right there for Theon to appreciate.

"Um, wrong room," says Theon finally, jerking his head up to look at Robb's face.

Robb smirks. "Says who?"

"It's the bathroom."

Robb's smirk just grows wider. "And?"

"Um."

"Take off your clothes," says Robb, and then he's taking off his pants too, leaving him in just his blue plaid boxers , which are already tenting in the front in a way that makes Theon's already insistent cock grow harder. He's never seen this bossy, dominating side of Robb before, but he can't say he really minds, stumbling over his feet in his haste to pull off his skinny jeans and t-shirt. He's so focused on making sure he doesn't fall over that he doesn't notice Robb leaning over and turning on the shower.

"Hurry up," says Robb, and then he's pulling off his boxers, too, and Theon has wanted this for so long that he's not quite sure what to do.

"Are you coming?" asks Robb, stepping into the shower with a wink.

"I hope not ," mutters Theon, reaching down to pull off his boxers too and following Robb into the shower.

The moment he's closed the shower curtain behind him, Robb is kissing him again, crowding him up against the wall, hands back on his hips, and Theon can tell there are going to be bruises there later . His hands fly back up to grab onto Robb's back, his cropped nails biting into Robb's skin sharp enough to make him gasp into Theon's mouth. Theon smiles into the kiss and rakes his nails gently down Robb's back and Robb lets out a quiet moan, pulling Theon closer to him.

Theon rolls his hips against Robb's, groaning into the friction, but as soon as it's there, Robb pulls away, shaking his head at Theon.

"I kissed you and you reacted by actually starting to date. You don't think I'm going to make it that easy for you, do you?"

Theon says nothing, too busy watching as Robb sinks to his knees on the shower floor, his hair so wet it almost looks black, slicked back against his head. He looks so beautiful like this that Theon can't help but reach out one hand and run it through his hair, but Robb slaps it away immediately. "No moving."

And then he's kissing the inside of Theon's thigh and he kind of loses all rational thought.

"Oh, my god," he breathes, his eyes fluttering closed, resting the back of his head against the wall. "Oh my god."

"Say my name," says Robb, biting Theon's sensitive skin lightly.

"Ro-Robb. Robb please."

"Again."

"Robb."

Robb smiles in a way that looks almost predatory and pulls his head away from Theon's thigh, no doubt leaving a bright red mark in his wake. Theon thinks for a moment that he's finally going to turn his attention to his poor, achingly hard, leaking cock, but Robb just moves his mouth to Theon's hipbone and continues biting .

"Please, Robb," breathes Theon, barely managing to keep his hands flat against the wall behind him. "Please."

"Please what?"

"Please, please touch me."

"I thought I was touching you," says Robb, his hands flying up to grasp Theon's hips tightly and hold them in place. Theon hadn't even realized he'd been moving them.

"My cock, touch my cock, please Robb."

Robb grins, and then his mouth is on Theon's cock, and Theon's mind goes blank. He doesn't know when or how Robb got so good at this, doesn't really want to think about it, but everything is warm and wet and Robb's tongue is moving along the thick vein on the bottom of his cock and Theon can't stop his hands from flying forward to tangle in Robb's hair.

"Oh my god, Robb, yes, oh my god," he moans, sure he must sound like the world's cheesiest porn star but the moment he gets a real grip on Robb's hair he pulls away, leaving Theon gasping and harder than he can ever remember being.

"I said no touching," says Robb, his voice low and completely wrecked, and Theon can't help but let out a little moan, regretfully relinquishing his grasp on Robb's hair. Robb bites the inside of Theon's upper thigh one more time before returning his mouth to Theon's cock, and that's all it takes for him to come, not even getting a chance to warn Robb before he's gasping, his hands pressed hard against the wall, white spots dancing behind his tightly shut eyelids.

Robb is standing again before Theon can even properly process what's going on, and then they're kissing again, and Theon places his hands on Robb's hips gently, tentatively. Robb does nothing to stop him, so he adjusts his grip, pulling Robb closer to him, kissing him fiercely as he rolls his hips desperately against Theon's own.

Theon moves his mouth away from Robb's, kissing a path down the side of his neck, pausing when Robb shivers at his touch, keeping his mouth there and sucking a mark into Robb's skin, right below where the last one had just healed. Theon moves one hand to grip Robb's cock, pressing his thumb gently against the slit, spreading the precome gathered there, and then Robb is coming too, burying his face between Theon's shoulder and his neck.

They kiss lazily for a few more moments, letting the hot water run over them, before Robb pulls back and grabs the soap, beginning to wash Theon gently.

"Where did that come from?" asks Theon finally, as Robb rubs the soap across his chest.

Robb ducks his head, a blush decorating his cheeks, and it's such a contrast to how he'd just been acting that Theon can't help but laugh.

"I don't know. You just... You make me so mad sometimes."

Theon grins. "If that's what's going to happen when I make you mad, remind me to do it more often."

Robb rolls his eyes. "Shut up," he says, kissing him again gently, cradling Theon's face in his hand as if he's something precious. And for the first time, Theon feels like he actually might be.

**Author's Note:**

> Oh my god I honestly can't believe I'm finally done with this. I started it last June, planning on writing a stupid fluffy, 4K maximum fic to get me into writing for the GoT/ASoIaF fandom. Fast forward 6 months, 12K words, and multiple freakouts about how out of character it was and how terrible it would be and how I'd never finish it, and here we are.  
> Thank you so so so much for making it through that angst filled monstrosity, and thank you especially to [janie_tangerine](http://archiveofourown.org/users/janie_tangerine)/[janiedean](Http://janiedean.tumblr.com) for being the best beta known to man and leaving me lovely comments and letting me rant at her about how afraid I was that I hadn't characterized Sansa right in the fourth part.


End file.
